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Graham woke the next morning feeling utterly confused. He remembered his behavior the night before, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why he’d been harassing that poor barmaid, Arabella. True, Graham had been intrigued by her when he saw her skillfully jumping her horse, but still. His behavior had been completely unlike him. He didn’t have a headache. He didn’t think he’d had very much to drink.
He wondered if he should go back to The Smoking Moose and apologize. Maybe he should just avoid the Moose and get right back on the road. No, the right thing to do was apologize. That’s how his parents had raised him. He always wanted to make them proud. He sighed.
A short while later, he was back at the Moose. He stepped inside. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dark interior. This time of day, there were only a few patrons scattered around the tavern and at the bar. He spotted an older barmaid with blond hair.
“Excuse me,” he called out. The woman turned to face him. Her eyebrows rose slightly. “I’m looking for Arabella,” he said politely. “Is she working now?”
“No, I’m afraid she isn’t,” the barmaid replied. “What’s your name? I’ll tell her you were asking about her.”
“No, that’s okay,” Graham said. “Thank you for your help.”
As he stepped back out into the bright sunlight, he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d done what he could. But he had to keep moving. He needed to get to the Golden City as soon as possible.
***
Arabella opened her eyes. The events of last night slowly came back to her. King Graham. Haydia and Noah together at the Moose. Noah fighting with the King of Aurelia. Braylen’s siren potion gone wild.
Maybe it’s over, she thought hopefully. She took a bath and dressed for the day, in a cream-colored lace dress. She laced up her brown boots and headed downstairs for breakfast. Her father had made buttermilk pancakes with strawberry syrup.
She went outside to wait for Bray on the wraparound porch and sat on the porch swing. A light breeze worked strands of hair loose from her bun. Murray hopped on the swing beside her with a loud meow. She stroked his silky fur. A few minutes later, Braylen rode up to the house.
“Sorry, Murray, I have to go,” Arabella said, giving him one last pet. She lightly descended the stairs. Braylen extended a hand, and she swung onto the horse beside him.
“We’re going to head into town and see if the potion is still working,” Braylen said.
“Oh, boy.” Arabella wasn’t looking forward to another scene like last night’s.
“How else can we know?” Braylen asked.
“Okay, but you’d better be ready to get us out of there if things get out of control.”
They started down the dirt road. Sunlight dappled the ground where it filtered through the leafy green canopy above. Arabella breathed deeply, feeling her shoulders relax. Everything was going to be okay. She and Bray always fixed problems together. Why should this time be any different?
Wendell’s hooves hit the cobblestone road that lead into town. Arabella swallowed. This was it. This was the test. She looked around for a man to speak to. She caught sight of the shoemaker, Mr. Jacobson, unlocking the door to his shop.
“Good morning, Mr. Jacobson,” she called out.
Jacobson froze, his key in the door, and turned to face Arabella. His harried expression softened. “Arabella, my dear. You’re looking lovely this morning.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jacobson,” Arabella replied politely. “You look quite dashing yourself.”
To Arabella’s surprise, Jacobson’s ears turned pink. “A girl as lovely as you should have new shoes,” he stated, nodding at Arabella’s well-worn boots peeking out from beneath her lace dress. “Why don’t you come inside, my dear, and I’ll design you something magnificent. A shoe that would put Cinderella’s glass slipper to shame. It would be an honor.” He looked up at Arabella in wonder.
“I guess that answers our question,” Arabella whispered to Braylen.
“If you want those shoes, I’ll pay for them,” Braylen offered. “They sound pretty amazing.”
Arabella elbowed him. “Thank you, Mr. Jacobson, for your kind offer.” Jacobson preened at her words, smiling widely. “But I have some things to take care of this morning. Good day.” She waved at him as Braylen nudged the horse forward.
Jacobson looked crestfallen. “Perhaps later?” he asked hopefully.
“Sure,” Arabella called over her shoulder as they trotted away. “Now we know,” she told Braylen quietly.
“Time to talk to Ebstene,” Braylen agreed.
Arabella and Braylen headed up to a little cottage at the top of a hill on the edge of town. Blue smoke curled out of the chimney. Braylen rapped on the door. They waited a long time. A shuffling sound came from the other side of the door. Slowly, the door creaked open. An old man, hunched over so that his long beard almost grazed the floor stared back at them. His blue eyes were still sharp.
“Good morning, Mr. Ebstene,” Braylen greeted him. “This is my friend, Arabella.”
“Hello, Braylen. Pleased to meet you, Arabella.”
“Hello, sir,” Arabella responded.
“I need your help,” Braylen confessed. The tips of his ears turned red. “I um, had a little problem with a potion.”
The old man looked at him knowingly. “Come, in, come in,” he said, shuffling aside to allow them into the cottage.
Sunlight filtered through the windows of the cottage, brightening the cozy space. “Have a seat,” Ebstene said. He gestured to a small round table. “I’ll make some tea, and you can tell me all about it.”
As he bustled around the small kitchen, Braylen told him about the siren potion gone wrong.
Ebstene raised his eyebrows. “This young lady needed a siren potion?”
Arabella blushed.
“Well, she didn’t know about it,” Braylen admitted. “I just thought it would give someone a push in the right direction. When I gave it to her, it didn’t work at first. But when it did start working a few hours later, it seemed, um, unusually strong.” Braylen looked uncomfortably at Arabella.
“The spell was delayed? What did you put the potion in?” Ebstene asked.
“Lemonade.”
“Ah.” Ebstene nodded. “The citric acid delayed the effect of the spell.” Braylen’s face reddened.
Arabella looked at Ebstene curiously as a thought occurred to her. “Why aren’t you affected by the spell?”
Ebstene chuckled. “Oh, my dear, when you get to be as old as I am, you build up immunity to many spells.”
“Can you help me?” Arabella asked. “Will it wear off on its own eventually?”
“I need to know exactly what he put in the potion, in what order, and in what quantity, to answer your question,” Ebstene said. He set three cups of tea on the table and sat down.
Braylen rattled off the potion ingredients. When he got to dried star leaf, the old man held up a hand to silence him. “Did you just say you used dried star leaf?”
“Yes,” Braylen said, shooting an anxious glance at Arabella.
“The potion requires fresh star leaf, not dried star leaf.” Ebstene said.
“What does that mean?” Braylen licked his lips nervously.
“How much did you use?” Ebstene asked.
“Half a cup,” Braylen responded.
Ebstene leaned back in his chair. “Star leaf is much more potent in its dried form, I’m afraid.”
“But it will still wear off, right?” Arabella asked. She gripped her teacup anxiously.
“That depends.” Ebstene looked at Braylen. “Tell me about the rest of the ingredients.”
Braylen kept going. A trickle of sweat dripped down his brow. Arabella found herself clutching the edge of her chair tightly.
When Braylen listed silegrass, the old man shook his head. “What is it?” Arabella asked anxiously.
“Your dear friend used silegrass instead of silvergrass. It sealed the spell. It means the spell won’t come to a natural end. You’ll need an antidote.”
“Can you make one?” Arabella asked hopefully.
“I’m afraid not, my dear. The remedy requires angel flower nectar. It doesn’t grow here, and it’s difficult to transport. There is a potion-maker in the Golden City that should be able to help you. Nelari. She’ll have the nectar. She is one of the most gifted potion-makers in the world.”
The Golden City was on the other side of the Whimsical Woods and across the Golden Desert. It would take weeks to travel there.
“That’s the only way?” Arabella’s voice rose shrilly. She cleared her throat. She wasn’t going to panic.
“Don’t worry, my dear. You’ll be back before you know it,” Ebstene said.
“I’m sorry, Aira,” Braylen said mournfully. “I never meant for this to happen.”
“I know, Bray.” She turned to Ebstene. “Thank you for your help, sir.”
The old man patted her hand. “Good luck, my dear. I wish you both well.”
Arabella stepped out the front door, but Braylen lingered for a moment. “This will definitely cure her?” Braylen asked.
“Yes,” Ebstene said. “But I need to warn you, without the antidote, this spell is irreversible. And the spell will progress.”
“What do you mean?” Braylen asked worriedly.
“Over time, her voice will have the opposite effect on men. Instead of attracting them, she’ll repel them. This will go on, until she eventually loses her voice. Without the antidote, she’ll lose her voice for good.”
“How long do we have?”
“She’ll be fine, son, as long as she gets the antidote. Now, run along. You have a long journey ahead of you.” Braylen stepped reluctantly outside. “Good luck.” Ebstene smiled kindly at Braylen before closing the wooden door.
Braylen slowly turned to face Arabella. “I’m sorry, Aira.” The words seemed inadequate. He’d brought a terrible fate upon his dearest friend.
Arabella sighed. “I know you had good intentions, Bray.” She linked her arm through his. “I guess this is our chance to have an adventure. I always said I wanted to see the Golden City.” She smiled at Braylen.
He seemed to perk up slightly.
“What are you going to tell your parents?” she asked. Braylen’s father didn’t approve of him making potions. He certainly wouldn’t want to hear how badly Braylen’s potion had gone wrong.
“I thought I might say that I was traveling to the city for a business opportunity. You know he’d be pleased if I took more of an interest in the family business. What about you?”
Arabella didn’t think her parents would love the idea of their youngest daughter crossing the desert with just Braylen, to travel to what they considered a big city full of danger. “Maybe I should just sneak out and leave them a note.”
“What if they find it before we get far enough away?”
“We’ll just have to be careful,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll pretend I’m leaving for work tonight. I’ll meet you at the end of my road at five-thirty.”
“You have to be careful not to speak to anyone,” Braylen said. “We don’t need another scene like yesterday. I think you should pretend to be mute when we meet people, once we’re out of town.” Arabella agreed.
Her parents treated her normally when she returned home, as they had that morning. Arabella assumed that the spell must not affect immediate family members, thank God. It would be a pretty disturbing spell, otherwise.